Taken
by raskapuska
Summary: *this story is on HIATUS* Shortly after the Hogwarts battle, Hermione is kidnapped by Draco, whose plans for the young witch are as twisted as his soul. Rated M for bondage, humiliation, rape. Don't like, don't read, don't hate. HG/DM
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: So, I'm starting out on this whole "writing fanfiction" beeswax. I don't claim to be very good, but I think this may be worth reading. Either way, it's up to you to decide. And, ya, I'm starting out dark... Figures, no?_

_All this Harry Potter goodness belongs to the one and only Jo. I just steal her stuff and use it for my own stories._

**Chapter the First**

Hermione woke up in the middle of the night screaming. Nightmares of the battle had haunted her dreams; Harry's limp form slumped on Hagrid's arms had shown up several times, along with Fred's dead and decaying body. Shuddering, she looked around to make sure she hadn't woken any of the other girls in her dorm and was relieved to see they were all still asleep. The battle, not 24 hours ago, had exhausted each one of them profusely.

Thunder rumbled in the distance and Hermione sighed. There was no way she could go back to sleep after she had seen those horrors in her head. She recalled times when she would wake up her mother in nights like this, plagued by nightmares. A wave of sorrow washed over her as she remembered where her parents were. Determined not to make a scene in the girl's dormitory, Herimone began heading down towards the kitchens, where she could make herself a nice cup of tea.

The common room was quiet, but by no means empty. Several people were sprawled on the couches, while some sat together against the wall. Hermione spotted Harry and Ginny in each other's arms, rocking their bodies soothingly back and forth. Harry caught her eye and Hermione gave him a small smile. Harry only blinked back, but Hermione knew that was probably all he could do at the moment- he was so physically and emotionally drained. She considered going over to him, but she knew Ginny was more than capable of helping Harry. Besides, the young redhead looked like she needed Harry now more than ever.

Hermione stepped through the portrait hole and began her descent towards the kitchens. Everywhere she looked adults were walking the hallways. Never had she seen the castle so busy at four in the morning, but she recalled that never had the castle gone through a battle either.

As she passed the Great Hall, she briefly noted the cots that had been set up for those who wanted a bed. It was strange, but many people chose to stay at Hogwarts and help rebuild, instead of heading back to their homes. Hermione could only imagine what Professor Dumbledore would be thinking right now, seeing how many people remained to help make sure the school would reopen whole in August. Despite her current state, Hermione smiled at the thought.

Lost in her thoughts, Hermione reached the kitchens in no time. She tickled the portrait and stepped inside, only to be greeted by a mob of house elves. Having learned her lesson about the Hogwarts elves, she did not try to preach equality, but politely asked for a cup of tea. Grimacing at the way the elves threw their beings into serving her, she sat down on a stool that was brought to her. Hermione had hardly begun to sip her tea when a cold voice sounded behind her, "Well, well, if it isn't the mudblood spending time with her favorite breed."

Not having to turn to recognize the voice, she spat back, "Oh, shut it, Malfoy. I hoped you would have grown up by now. No one finds your petty jabs amusing."

"Feisty. I like that. I like it a lot."

Hermione turned her head, a mixture of shock and disgust on her face. "Excuse me, Malfoy, did you just say what I think you just said? Are you drunk or something? Get the hell out!"

"No, I'm not drunk. I'm as sober as I've ever been," he said, with a gleam in his eye, "I mean what I said, Granger; I like it when you fight back like that." And with that, he took three big steps toward her, until he was towering above her sitting form.

Not intimidated, Hermione stood up and faced Draco. The top of her head only reached his shoulder, but she did not let that get in the way. She pointed her finger into his chest and spoke through a clenched jaw, "You. Do. Not. Scare. Me. Anymore. I'm tired of you being a prick and I'm tired of listening to you try to hide your insecurities by mocking me. Those times are over, and you WILL respect me." She finished with a particularly hard jab into his chest, turned on her heel and headed towards the open door. Before she could reach it, however, it shut in her face. Hermione tried to open it, but found it locked. As she reached around for her wand, she realized it was not in her pocket.

"Looking for... this?" Malfoy asked, dangling Hermione's wand from his thumb and pointer finger.

"How did you...? Give me my wand back!"

"Oh, Granger, Granger. You give marvelous speeches, but you might benefit from paying attention to your wand while you are being so eloquent. Now, I was trying to tell you something, before you rudely interrupted me with your... very harsh words..." Draco spoke with a satin-smooth voice that gave Hermione chills. Turning to the house elves, he spoke harshly, "Give us some privacy."

The house elves quickly vanished from sight and Hermione could do nothing but stare at Draco as he slowly moved towards her. She tried not to show it, but she was becoming more and more terrified each second that went by. She felt exposed in only her nightgown and slippers. Thoughts of all the things Draco could do to her started running through her head. He wouldn't dare... would he?

"Now, Granger, you will sit," Hermione's legs went out from under her as she landed on a chair, "and be still," Hermione suddenly felt her arms and legs be tied to the chair by invisible ropes, "as I tell you exactly what is going to happen between the two of us."

"Malfoy, if you as much as TOUCH me I will scream. There are dozens of teachers and adults patrolling the hallways, someone WILL hear me and stop you."

"I wouldn't be so sure. You see, I took precautions before coming to see you, Mudblood. This room is completely sound proof – no one will hear you, no matter how loud you scream. I would advise you not to ruin your vocal chords. As for me touching you, I don't plan on doing much to you just yet."

Hermione gulped. She was sweating profusely, her face becoming pale. Draco wouldn't hurt her- Harry had saved his life. He owed her at least that.

"This all is a very simple matter," Draco began casually, "I own you. I know it may sound a little bit strange to you, but there is nothing you can do about it. You see, the Dark Lord was very intent in killing you and Weasel, as well as Potter. I don't care much about those two, but you, oh, you, Granger, I didn't want to see thrown away. So I went to the Ministry and bought all of your records. The Minister himself signed the forms necessary. You are my slave, my possession, and a rather expensive one too."

The whole situation seemed absurd to Hermione. If she hadn't been tied to a chair in a sound-proofed kitchen, she would have laughed at the idea. Her logical brain processed the information as fast as she could, looking for a way out of the situation.

"There is no way that contract is still valid. The current Minister is going to revoke it as soon as he can. Perhaps he already has."

"Hum, this is where things get a little bit complicated. I bought you, Granger. I owned you until yesterday, I demand on owning you tomorrow as well, no matter what the current Minister may or may not say. I plan on taking you with me tonight so you can start fulfilling your duties as my personal slave. My sex slave." Draco's mouth twisted in a sickeningly perfect smile. Hermione panicked.

"You can't do that! There's... There is no way you'll get me out of Hogwarts without getting caught. And the Ministry will know that you have me, they will find you... They will find me! You are wasting your time trying to take me anywhere."

"We'll see about that, Mudblood," Draco sneered as he planted a soft kiss on Hermione's lips.

_So, uhm, there you have it. Whether you love it or hate it, I appreciate any feedback. Especially if it's constructive! :)_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter the Second**

Draco's lips touched Hermione's softly but assertively. Before the witch had time to react, Draco had already pulled away, looking smug and in control. Hermione's brain was working at record speed, desperately looking for a way out of Draco's dominion. She did not want to be his... his slave.

Suddenly, Hermione felt herself turn solid She assumed Draco had petrified her, but she was surprised to note she could still move her eyes. She looked up at Draco, who smiled back.

"Do you like my new spell, Granger? I developed it myself. It's a full body cast that I alone have control of. Try to move any muscle- you can't. You are my puppet and I have your strings. Quite symbolic of our relationship, don't you think?"

True to Draco's statement, Hermione could not move her arms or her legs. She tried opening her jaw without success. Hermione could not even force out air to speak – her breathing was controlled by Draco as well. Perhaps the most agonizing aspect was she could not twist her face in panic. Rather, she could feel herself holding a pleasant expression and smiling fondly at Draco. As hard as she tried to move her muscles, she could not. Finally, she gave up in struggling and began raking her brain for some sort of wand-less spell that could counter such a complex charm as this. Her search came up empty- she felt like crying.

"I suppose you have noticed," Draco began again, "that I have left you your eye motion. I could force you to look at what I want, but for now, I want you to be able to take in absolutely every detail of what is going on around you."

To Hermione's horror, she felt herself stand up and move towards Draco. Her hand, on its own accord (or, rather, Draco's) reached down and started stroking the area between Draco's legs. Hermione felt his length harden; she wanted to scream in shame and disgust, but instead she grinned up at Draco, who looked down at his seemingly submissive slave. Draco saw her true feelings in her eyes and mentioned, "There is no getting out of this for you, Granger. As I said before, I control everything you do. I may not be able to control your thoughts, but I own your body, and that's plenty for me."

Draco sighed as Hermione began unbuttoning his trousers. She pulled out his hardened member and began stroking it. Directed by Draco's thoughts, the young witch performed expertly, doing exactly as he wished her to. Hermione, however, wanted to cry. She tried to pull away from Draco's penis with all her might, but could not. A mixture of shame, fear, disgust and helplessness swirled inside her, worsening each minute. She wanted desperately to cry, to run away, to find Ron and have him hold her close. Instead, she was forced to perform this horrible act on one of the people she despised most in the world whilst looking like she was enjoying every second of it. She felt sick.

Through what seemed like years Hermione touched and caressed Draco's cock, until finally, with a grunt, he ejaculated over her hand and the front of her robes. Hermione looked down at where Draco had stained her robes before looking back up at Draco. He had a wicked look in his eyes and Hermione felt her hand moving towards the goopy liquid. With dread, she felt her finger swipe against the rough fabric of her clothes and scoop a glob of Draco's come. Hermione's vision clouded for a moment when she realized what Draco was making her do. Her eyes went wild, looking for an unavailable escape. Her jaw began to slowly, seductively, open as her finger inched closed and closer to her mouth. Hermione's brain was going insane and Draco just watched, deeply amused by the witch's panic. At last, the sticky finger entered Hermione's mouth. Slowly her tongue ran against it, tasting every last drop. Hermione felt filthy, and to further her atomic discomfort, Draco had her moan loudly.

Hermione sensed herself do a one-eighty turn and walk out of the now unlocked kitchen door. She hoped Draco would send her back to her dorms, but she turned the opposite way, towards a dead end. Draco came from behind and put his head on her shoulder, whispering into her ear, "Do you believe me now? Has the situation sunk into your wittle brain?" As he spoke, his hands touched her hips and traced her curves up and down over her nightgown. Hermione gulped, or at least tried to. Draco continued, "My favorite thing to control..." Hermione felt something wet between her legs, "is arousal. I can't make you feel horny, but I can make it look like you are. Do you feel yourself becoming hot and wet for me?" Hermione replied with a loud groan that she had not intended. However, as soon as the hot and wet sensation started, it was gone. "Remember this," Draco purred.

Taking Hermione's hand, Draco pulled her towards the wall. To Hermione's surprise, a secret passage waited behind the seemingly stone wall. The two walked for a few minutes before the passage began sloping downward. Suddenly, Hermione realized she had regained control of her facial muscles and, to her joy, her vocals.

"Screaming will do you more harm than good," Draco spoke before she could utter a yell, "you don't want to wake up whatever things are living down here. This passage was going to be used by the Dark Lord and there is no way for us to know the monsters he stored here."

Hermione suppressed a yell, but began crying nonetheless. She tried to stop herself, to not show Draco how utterly mortified she was, but to no avail. Sobs shook her body as she relived every second of her captivity. Draco seemed to show no concern.

To Hermione's advantage, Draco's control on her body kept her from stumbling over the uneven ground. Thankfully Draco stopped his advances, and Hermione was able to concentrate on an escape route, even as tears fell freely from her eyes. She did not know for how long they had walked, but she knew her presence would not be missed until mid-morning, which was hours away. Relying on others to save her would prove futile, she knew. If she was going to get out of this, she would have to do it by herself. And soon.

Draco strolled along the dark corridor. He held his wand high, illuminating a path for himself and his captive. He must have been terrified of the dark, but he did not show it. Hermione would have expected otherwise, remembering the horrors Draco had gone through at the same time she was handling her own personal hell. While she was still a mess, Draco seemed to have recovered quickly. Too quickly.

"They'll know it was you," Hermione thought out loud, "when they notice I'm gone, they will realize you aren't here as well. They will go to Malfoy Manor straight away and bring me back."

"You don't desist, do you? First of all, I'm not a blubbering idiot; you are not being brought to Malfoy Manor. I'm taking you to a more... secluded place. A bit more rustic, so to speak. And, if you will recall, my family left this castle the moment the battle ended. I haven't been here, I will not be missed."

"Wait, if you haven't been here, how did you find me? How did you even get into the castle?"

"Ever the curious one. Maybe I'll tell you, if you promise to behave on the ride home?"

"I will do no such thing. I am not going willingly, and I have no intention of appearing as if I am. You might just have to drag me."

"You know, I don't actually like controlling your body like this. I much prefer you going willingly. I am going to make you a deal: I'll return your body to you on the condition that you follow me and obey my orders. Otherwise I will make sure the punishment is... as intense as I can make it."

Hermione thought for a moment. Surely being able to control her body was worth obeying Draco's commands. Besides, she could make a break for it if the opportunity arose. She agreed and stumbled forward as Draco quickly removed the spell. It took Hermione only a few moments to readjust to her body again, and began walking next to her new... master. Draco smirked at her, visibly pleased that she was already following his orders. This would be easier than he expected.

Lost in thought, Draco did not notice that Hermione stopped walking until she was a few meters away from him. Draco turned and began to speak, but as he uttered his first syllable, Hermione took off running. She disappeared into the darkness.

Hermione ran as fast as she could, tripping and landing her knees on the cold stones. Her hands stretched out before her in a feeble attempt to find her way. She looked back frequently searching for Draco, but she seemed to have lost him. She felt momentarily triumphant, until she felt a strong pulling sensation around her waist, like an invisible rope. That rope yanked her backwards, but she did not fall. Rather, she levitated swiftly back to where Draco stood, angry and impatient. Hermione felt herself go cold. She had just made a big mistake. Draco acknowledged it.

"Merlin, Granger. You can't stay put one minute? I'm actually going to have to follow through with my threats, though I did not even think of a punishment for you. In any case, we are pressed for time, but I will deal with you later. We'll have our fun."

"Look, Malfoy, I'm sorry, I..."

"You will address me as Master."

"..."

"Failure to do so will result in further discipline. Don't make me angrier than I already am."

"M...Ma...Master," Hermione spoke tentatively.

"Good job. Now walk fast, we are almost there."


	3. Chapter 3

_Author's Note: thanks so much to all the peeps who (already!) read, favorited, added to alerts and reviewed...  
I'm experimenting with new stuff here. Tell me what you think :) _

**Chapter the Third**

After what seemed like hours of walking, Hermione saw a faint light in the distance. She considered running once more, but thought better of it. She did not want to upset Malfoy... Master... even further.

Once they reached the entrance, Hermione looked out. They were already in the forest, probably not far from the castle but still under McGonnagle's protective charms. She could feel them buzzing in the dawn air. Malfoy continued walking and Hermione feared he would make her walk through the forest in her slippers.

Draco, however, appeared from behind a tree with a beautiful white horse. Hermione had always loved horses to the point she had insisted in horseback riding lessons when she was younger. She was glad to have taken those – the trip with Draco would be some much less uncomfortable since she already knew how to ride.

Hermione approached the horse and gingerly stroked its nose. Draco said nothing, instead, he grabbed a knotted piece of leather from a pouch on the saddle. He took Hemione's waist and tied the leather around it. The witch again thought of struggling, but she did not see the point. Rather, she tried to understand what the purpose of this... thing was, that Draco was tying around her...Hermione gasped.

A piece of leather ran from her bellybutton, over her crotch and between her butt cheeks, like a sort of demented thong. Over her nightgown and panties, the contraption gave her a horrible wedgie that Draco stopped her from picking by tying her hands together in front of her. Without warning, Draco lifter her up and hooked a loop in front of the leather thong to the saddle, so Hermione was draped across the horses neck. Draco soon mounted behind her, petting her bottom before taking the reigns and taking off.

As the horse sped to a canter, Hermione realized the purpose of the device; every move of the horse caused the leather to softly rub against her most intimate places. After only a few seconds, she could feel her clitoris begin to swell in pleasure. Hermione did not want to be turned on right now, especially when Draco was not a foot away from her. She wanted to blame him for her body's reaction, but she knew he had done nothing to cause her arousal. Damn those teenage hormones!

The friction from the leather was very subtle; she became wetter and wetter, but was not able to reach an orgasm. She needed the rubbing to be faster and harder, neither of which she could accomplish. Before too long, Hermione needed to come, and she needed it badly. The feeling in her stomach began driving her wild, as did the ache between her legs. It took all of her self control to not start humping the horse's shoulder. All of her attempts to focus her thoughts elsewhere brought images of sex, or passionate kisses, or, worse of all, wild orgasms. Hermione tried to hide the fact that she was so terribly aroused from Draco, but to no avail. She was flushed deeply and her breathing had become uneven. Draco noticed she was horny and frustrated, but did nothing to aid her. Maybe if she were to beg for his help, he would give it.

Hermione was so close, she could practically feel herself coming already. No doubt she had a giant wet spot in her panties- she could almost feel it running down her legs. Her nipples brushed the horse's side and she barely stifled a moan. She needed this so much. Losing inhibition, she began to slowly and discretely thrust against the leather strap and the horse.

Seeing this, Draco put his hand atop her round backside and began to rub circles. Hermione stiffened. She couldn't move her hips without Draco feeling her do it. Once more she barely held in a groan of frustration. She was to the point she wanted to cry – her need was driving her to the brink of madness. Her clit was throbbing and she was sure even the horse could feel her wetness.

Answering her prayers, the horse began galloping. Hermione knew she was about to come, but had no desire to let Draco see. She stiffened her body in yet another attempt to shield her arousal. Again, it was of no use; as the overwhelming sensations took over, Hermione lost control of her body momentarily. She hoped Draco had not noticed her faint moans and arched back, as well as the sticky liquid between her legs. At least that horribly uncomfortable tightness was over, thought an alleviated Hermione, as she prepared to relax for the remainder of the journey. However, soon after she issued that thought, Hermione's attention refocused on her private parts. The continued rubbing of the leather was beginning to arouse her once more. Before too long, she was writhing again, seeking friction and release.

All throughout the morning Hermione struggled with the leather, each time becoming more and more frustrated. As she reached her last orgasm, she no longer cared about Draco. She panted and screamed while rubbing herself against the horse's side. Draco looked down with his signature smirk and slowed the horse to a walk.

"Well, Granger, I can tell you had a fun ride. I'll have to say you amused me deeply and I would have loved to watch you writhe and moan one more time, but we have reached our destination."

Hermione was disoriented; she had been so preoccupied with her... problem... that she had not paid any attention to where they were going. Scolding herself, she quickly looked around, trying to locate herself through surroundings. All she saw were woods. Despite all she had learned, identifying trees was not her strongest suit – for all she knew, she might as well still be in the Forbidden Forest, though she doubted Draco would have liked to stay so near the battleground. Having given up on locating herself, she began a quick but careful analysis of possible escape routes. From her point of view, still perched on a horse by a leather thong, her results were not promising: the terrain looked too rocky for her slippers, and though tree cover was plenty, she had no idea which way to go for help. She would need her wand for any hopes of a successful escape.

From behind her came a contented sigh, "Home, sweet home." Hermione tried to turn and see what Draco was talking about, but found her neck could not perform such tasks, especially when her body was already exhausted. The horse stopped moving and Draco hopped down, leaving Hermione to helplessly wait for him to aid her off the horse. Draco did so only after performing several incantations that Hermione recognized as a Disillusionment Charm, a Muggle-Repelling Charm and a Caterwauling Charm.

As Draco helped her down and off his stallion, he continued babbling spells, "Cave inimicum. Salvio hexia. Protego totalum." Hermione recognized all of these, having used many of them only a few days ago. It felt like an eternity away.

With both feet now on the ground, Hermione made an attempt at walking with little success. Her odd positioning through the trip had caused her legs to turn to jelly. Or maybe it was all those orgasms. Either way, she had to hold on to Draco to keep herself from falling.

Once she deemed herself stable, Hermione looked up at their destination: it was a small cottage, much like the ones that showed up in her childhood story books. Yes, it was the perfect picture of a wood cottage: small, with delicate windows and a cute chimney. The garden was surrounded by a white picket fence, and a small stream ran nearby. She gave Draco an incredulous look, "You live... here?"

"It's one of my family's summer homes. It was a present my mother received from a suitor long ago. I only came here once, when I did a tour of my estates."

"But it's so... happy."

Draco laughed at her comment, but his laugh was cold and full of malice. "Not happy: secluded. Private. That's what we want."

Hermione couldn't help but marvel at the place. It was the most enchanting little house she had ever seen- even the garden was impeccably kept. How could this possibly be in the possession of a heartless monster like Draco?

"Now, my pet, we head inside."


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter the Fourth**

Draco sauntered towards the wooden door, leaving Hermione no choice but to follow him. Every step was laborious in her weariness and despair, but she knew better than to run- she doubted her body would support itself at any speed above a stagnating crawl.

Once at the threshold, Draco spoke a series of complicated words, causing the intricately carved door to swing forward. He glanced back approvingly at Hermione, who had followed him to the door. She hated herself for her surrender, but did not manage to find the strength to muster a retort. With an obvious show of being first, Draco stepped inside and a frightened Hermione followed close behind. The door swung back forcefully, yet made no sound as it shut. Hermione was trapped inside the house.

The open-space cottage was much larger on the inside than it appeared. The young witch recognized the spell as the same one she had used on her handbag this past year. Everywhere she looked reminded her of the reality she had been jerked away from: the roaring fireplace on her right looked like the one in the Gryffindor common room, the kitchens on the opposite side were a slightly newer version of Mrs. Weasley's, the chosen décor was strikingly similar to the one in Grimmauld Place, and the house elf scuttling by reminded her too much of Dobby. Hermione had a hard time holding back the tears.

Draco made no motion to acknowledge Hermione's fragile emotional state. Rather, he spoke to the house elf who was already removing his shoes, "Bring me lunch to my room in an hour or so, Sangue. I'll be taking my pet to bed. She will be under my charge- there is no need for you to care for her unless I specifically instruct you to."

"Yes, master. Lunch will be brought to you in exactly an hour. What wine do you wish with your menu?"

"I'll take a Spanish Tempranillo, there's an opened bottle of it already."

"Yes, sir," the house elf bowed deeply to Draco, but, oddly enough, not to Hermione. She was deeply confused and a little bit worried about this. Sensing her puzzlement, Draco finally gave her an explanation.

"Sangue was my Aunt Bella's house elf. She's Dobby's sister and has been taught not to bow to mudbloods and the like."

Hermione scowled at how easily Draco spoke of Dobby; Draco had seen him die! Dobby had been his house elf and he showed no concern over his death. With a shock she realized that Bellatrix was also dead, and Draco spoke about her just as easily. Hermione shuddered. How could Draco be so indifferent to pain and destruction? This was a bad omen.

Not aware Hermione had her mind elsewhere, Draco continued, "I inherited Sangue along with some other Black and Lestrange heirlooms. Auntie Bella was very generous with her more... fun... possessions." A smile creeped Draco's lips.

With that comment, Hermione snapped back into attention. This situation was getting worse by the minute. Before she could speak her mind, Draco picked her up and walked her towards the stairs by the back wall. The spiraling motion made Hermione momentarily dizzy so she didn't see the loft until Draco had already plopped her down on the wood floor.

A gigantic canopy bed sat in the center of the room. A small sitting area along with a small circular table with two chairs filled the empty floor space. To her right, Hermione saw a door she assumed lead to a bathroom. She did not have enough time to consider the room's details before Draco pounced.

Hermione's survival instincts kicked in as she fought Draco off. She pushed him away with her hands and feet, landing a kick to Draco's jaw. Her slippers flew out of her feet. Hermione's fists connected with Draco's arms and chest. Draco was not phased by her reaction and rolled himself over her middle. His legs to either side of her, he sat over her stomach. She tried scratching him, but his large hands soon caught hers and held them down over her head. Hermione's eyes were wide as she watched Draco for a sign of what he was going to do next.

From her position under Draco, Hermione could feel his already hard member. Once more, she feared for herself. Suddenly, she felt her nightgown disintegrate around herself. She blushed, clad only in her bra and underwear, and tried to cover herself. Draco held firmly to her arms and used his body weight to prevent her from turning. Sights of the inevitable filled Hermione's head and she gulped.

Holding both her arms with only one hand, Draco slid his free hand down Hermione's side. She shivered at the contact, tears beginning to run down her cheeks. When Draco reached around her back to unclasp her bra strap, she let out a quiet sob. Draco looked her in the eye, an unreadable expression in his face as he gradually pulled her bra up. He looked back down at Hermione's exposed breasts, staring at the small rounded mounds.

Draco's hand slid down further to remove Hermione's panties. The witch's face was streaked by tears, but she began holding back her sobs. Draco let go of Hermione's arms and moved off her to better view the area between her legs. Hermione stood still, preparing for what she knew Draco would do to her. She felt her panties slide down the entire length of her legs.

A blush colored Hermione's face as she noticed how intently Draco was staring at her curls. His expression was unreadable as he examined the untamed hairs that hid her vulva. Hermione closed her eyes, not wanting to see Draco when he violated her. She just laid there, determined to not utter a sound, to not give him the satisfaction of causing a reaction out of her. She would not scream; she would face this with her Gryffindor pride.

Hermione felt Draco stand up and walk around her and completely remove her bra. His footsteps then echoed from the direction of the bed. Hermione herd something snap and her stomach did frightful flip. She felt herself break into cold sweat. Without a warning, frigid metal enveloped her throat with a loud clack. Hermione gasped and opened her eyes to see Draco storming out of the room.

She tried standing up to run for the door, but a strong pressure on her neck pulled her down. She landed on the wooden floor with a painful thump. After massaging her bottom and neck, Hermione inspected the heavy instrument Draco had placed on her. It was attached by a chain to a ring on the floor by the bed. It's length was such that she had a few square feet she could reach if she crawled. Hermione could only stand upright above the ring, everywhere else the chain's short length kept her from achieving a fully erect stand. After the instrument was deemed cruel and barbaric, Hermione resumed her inspection of the room. At the foot of the bed laid a large pillow and a dog bowl. Hermione could only stare for a few moments – Draco really meant it. She was his pet.

Hermione curled herself up in a fetal position on the floor. Naked and chained in Draco Malfoy's bedroom, she cried herself to a dreamless sleep.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter the Fifth**

Hermione felt herself stir, sleep slowly drifting away. She cuddled further into the comfy fabric that surrounded her, willing away that horrid nightmare. It was all a bad dream, she told herself, and she was still in the Gryffindor tower. She would get out of bed and get right to work rebuilding the castle. She would find Harry and see what needed to be done, maybe even fly to get Teddy. She would get to see Ron, talk to him and maybe even kiss him again. A warm feeling found its way to Hermione's heart. With that thought, she opened her eyes.

The sight of Draco's room came into view, causing Hermione's happy feelings to dissolve instantly. Her hand rushed up to her throat and felt the cool metal that symbolized her captivity. The nightmare was real: Draco had taken her away. He owned her. The idea of it felt so disgusting! Slavery, owning another human, being forced into work and into sex was barbaric! She fell back onto the pillow and sighed, exhaustion taking every drop of energy from her body. She wanted to cry, but there were no more tears to shed.

"Awake, are we?" Draco's voice called her attention. He was sitting on the table by the window, eating some sort of meat dish, "You missed your dinner." He cut his steak into a minuscule piece and brought it up to his mouth. Noticing Hermione was watching, he made a show of seductively licking his lips. The young witch scowled, but Draco only smirked. "You know, Granger, you need a new name."

Hermione gave Draco a dumbfounded look. "Why do I need a new name?"

Draco's expression abruptly went sour, and he gave Hermione an icy look. He was obviously angry, but did nothing but stare at Hermione. It did not take her long to realize her mistake. She swiftly added, "Master?" Even in the most stressful of situations, Hermione was a quick learner. Draco's face jumped back to his normal smug self.

"Good job, pet. You seem to be catching on fast. You need a new name because I don't particularly like the name 'Hermione'" Draco looked at Hermione just in time to see a look of hurt pass over her features, but as soon as it arrived, it was gone.

"Master?"

"Yes?"

"May I... May I choose my own new name?"

Draco was taken aback with the question. He had expected Hermione to protest, but his cool mask remained intact. "No, as my property, it is my duty and my right to name you. The choice is mine and mine alone."

Hermione did not reply. Instead, she just sunk herself deeper into the cushion.

"Come here," Draco demanded, and with a disdainful voice added, "pet."

With weary arms, Hermione pulled herself into a crouching position and made to stand up. At a wave of Draco's wand, the chain shortened, pulling Hermione down with a painful thump.

"When in my presence, you will crawl unless told otherwise. Understood?"

Hermione looked horrified, but replied, "Yes, Master," before settling herself into a crawling position. As she moved forward, Draco waved his wand to lengthen the chain. Though the metal no longer pulled her down, it strained Hermione's neck whenever she strained forward. As she crawled on the wooden floor, she could feel her breasts swaying back and forth. She knew Draco was looking. Hermione felt her cheeks redden at the thought, but kept her gaze down. She didn't want to see him smirk at her. Hermione didn't have the energy to fight the jabs and advances.

When she reached Draco's feet, she stopped, gazing intently at Draco's expensive shoes. Hermione felt Draco's hand on her neck and froze. His fingers touched the patch of skin right above the collar. The cool hand traveled up to cup her face. Feeling the pressure on her jaw, Hermione fell back on her heels and straightened her back to kneel, level with Draco's stomach.

"Put your head on my lap," Draco commanded. Hermione shuffled so she was side by side with Draco's sitting form, and softly touched her face to his thigh. Draco's hand touched her shoulder and she shivered at the contact. Hermione wanted his hands off of her, but Draco did anything but remove them. Slowly he traced her shoulder blade. His hand than moved around to touch her collarbone. His free hand played with her curly hair and ears. The young witch trembled in fear.

Draco's hands touched Hermione's back, shoulders and face, slowly but powerfully. She tensed at each touch, wanting to pull away from the toxic feel of those hands. Fighting her will to flee, Hermione knelt like a stone at the feet of her master.

The young witch could sense Draco's hands moving closer and closer to her breasts. She closed her eyes and waited until she felt him cupping her. Hermione's breath caught in her lungs and remained there until Draco's hand lifted off her. To her dismay, they soon reached for her other breast, and ever so gently squeezed and massaged. His hand was cold, but his fingers soft. Hermione knew he wasn't hurting her, but she felt pain in the violation. Caresses like this should have felt nice, but instead they felt foul. Hermione whimpered.

Abruptly Draco's hands left her body. Hermione's eyebrows furrowed as she glanced up at Draco, who calmly reached for his wine glass and took a sip. Hermione begged with her eyes to be let go, for she did not dare move without permission. The man did not even glance at her. "You need a bath."

Hermione was mortified. Did she stink? Granted, it had been months since she had taken a real bath, but she always thought of herself as having superb hygiene. She did not have time to ask questions or protest before Draco had, with a flick of his wand, unhooked the heavy chains from the floor and grabbed them with his hand. He stood up and began pulling Hermione along.

Draco's pull was strong and Hermione struggled to crawl behind him. The metal dug into her neck so much that it hurt. Without thinking, she cried out, "Wait!" Draco stopped and turned, furious. He yanked Hermione up to her feet by the chain and spoke quietly, "You do not command me. I take no orders from you. You will learn to ask permission before speaking, and you will learn to obey me. Is that clear?"

Tears sprang back to Hermione's eyes, and she mustered a feeble, "Yes, Master." Seeming satisfied with her response, Draco opened the door that led to the lower floor and began the descent. Hermione began getting on her hands and knees when Draco spoke, "You may walk down the stairs. Anytime we are out of the room, you will have permission to walk, unless I say otherwise."

"Yes, Master"

Hermione was led to the kitchen, where the house elf Sangue was busily washing the dishes from dinner. When she saw Draco, the elf gave a deep bow and squealed, "Master, your pet's bath is ready, Master."

"Good, Sangue. Wash her well, and groom her for me. I want her nice and clean for tonight."

Draco handed Sangue the chain and headed out the main door. Once he was out of sight, Sangue began babbling, "Sangue is sorry, miss, Sangue no mean to be mean to miss. But Sangue must, oh, Sangue must, for Master wishes it so. Yes, he does."

"Sangue, it's-"

"No, no, miss must not talk. Master be very upset if miss talk to Sangue. Sangue must not let miss speak."

Hermione was quiet as the small elf produced a large wooden tub from thin air. The spell reminded Hermione of her years in charms class and she wished for her wand. Sangue helped Hermione into the warm water and began a thorough process of scrubbing and rinsing. Every once in a while the dirty water was replaced with clean water, a rather complex bit of magic. Hermione wondered if that was Sangue's magic, but could not ask. Whenever the young witch tried washing herself, her hand was swatted away by Sangue, who continued chattering throughout the entire bath.

"...and Sangue cook very well too, miss. Sangue must not give miss food, but Master's food be delicious. Sangue hopes that Master will give miss some of his food so miss can taste Sangue's cooking, for it be good. Sangue proud of her cooking, miss."

Once Hermione was deemed spotless by the elf, the tub disappeared and Hermione found herself laying down on a towel on the floor. She began to stand up, but a small hand on her shoulder pushed her gently back down. "No, miss, Sangue still has work to do. Miss must stay very still. Very, very still. Sangue wishes not to hurt miss, for miss be very sweet to Sangue and Master."

Hermione panicked. What could Sangue possibly have to do? The witch felt her heart speed up as Sangue disappeared into one of the cupboards. She came out again with a box which she laid down by Hermione's waist.

"Miss must stay very still." Sangue squeaked again. She opened the box and took out a flask of a red-colored liquid. Hermione began going through her six years of potions in an attempt to identify the mystery potion that Sangue was busily uncorking. The scent of mint and salt swirled from the opened flask and filled their nostrils. Hermione realized what it was and breathed a sigh of relief. This was no big deal, but it was sure as hell going to sting.

Sangue dipped a towel into the potion. After twisting the towel to remove any excess liquid, she began running it down Hermione's legs. Hermione felt as the hairs on her legs dissolved, having used this potion plenty of times during the summer. It felt like the cells on her legs were crying in pain, every single one protesting the potion's effects. Hermione concentrated on breathing deeply as Sangue scrubbed every inch of Hermione's thighs, knees, calf and shins. She sighed in relief once Sangue was done, the painful sting fading into a dull throb. Next, Sangue lifted her arms and repeated the process on Hermione's armpits. Again, Hermione sucked in a breath, waiting for the pain to be over. Thank Merlin she would only have to do this every eight weeks!

Sighing in relief, Hermione sat up and looked at Sangue. The elf, however, was re-dipping the towel. Hermione wondered what for, until Sangue stood right between her legs. Sangue gave Hermione an apologetic look, but Hermione reacted before Sangue could begin. "No way! This is ridiculous. No. I refuse."

"But miss must. Sangue must. Master wishes it so."

"Look, I've done plenty for him that I didn't want to do, but this is not right. It took me years to learn to love myself, I'm not giving it up for some stupid, slimy git."

"Miss mustn't speak that way of Master. No, miss, please, Master will punish Sangue if it is not done. Miss must let Sangue do her work."

Hermione thought the situation over. Sangue was right – she would be punished. As much as Hermione did not want to do this, she could not live with the guilt of knowing she caused someone pain. Even if, she told herself, the guilty one was Draco.

"Ok, I'll... I'll do it. But please make it quick."

"Sangue always does her best work, miss. Now miss must be quiet, so Master is not upset."

Sangue guided Hermione into a laying position with her feet propped up. Hermione gulped, ready for the pain. When Sangue touched the towel to her skin, Hermione gasped. It felt like little needles were being jabbed into her vulva. Sangue was working faster than usual, but the sting was becoming too much. Hermione screamed in pain. She held still, telling herself that moving would only make it take longer. Sangue began speaking soothing words, but Hermione did not hear. She was so focused on her own pain that she did not even notice Draco coming into the kitchen. Closing her eyes, Hermione sobbed until the pain subsided into a low throb.

Hermione felt herself being carried back up to the room, her nose pressed to Draco's shoulder. She took the opportunity to smell him. He smelled... foreign. It wasn't a bad smell, not too sweet with a hint of something woody. Once they entered the suite, Draco deposited her on her pillow, reattached the chain and sat himself on the bed. Turning to Hermione, he asked, "Did it really hurt that much?"

Hermione was quiet for a second before she spoke, "It stung a lot, Master."

"You didn't really answer my question."

The silence was thick in the room as Hermione thought the question over. "You're changing me."

"Well, yes. Did you honestly expect anything else?"

"Then why do you care if it hurts?"

It was Draco's turn to be quiet for a moment. "I don't"

Hermione curled on her pillow and pretended to sleep. Before too long, she was slumbering again.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter the Sixth**

Birds were chirping happily outside the window when Hermione woke up. She jostled awake, startled by her surroundings. Once she remembered where she was, instinct told her to focus on the bed behind her. She heard Draco's soft, even breathing muffled by thick covers. She hoped that meant he was still asleep. Maybe he would sleep the whole day and leave her alone. Hermione wondered how long she herself had slept. What time was it anyway?

A more careful look at the room revealed a clock on a bookshelf. Hermione squinted to make out the planets and stars. After a few quick calculations she was able to determine her exact position in time and space, and was dismayed by the results. It had been a bit more than twenty-four hours since Draco had met her in the kitchens. It seemed like an eternity away. She recalled the battle, only three days ago. How could this all have happened so fast? She was exhausted.

Hermione's stomach emitted a rumbling roar and she realized she had not eaten for a very long time. How very like Draco to starve her, as well as humiliate her. Tears returned to Hermione's eyes as she recalled all he had done to her the previous day. What was wrong with that bastard? Draco had always tried to bully and embarrass her in school, but she always assumed it was jealousy, or that he needed to prove himself to his minions. Never had she expected him to loathe her this much.

She curled herself on the pillow, covering as much of her private parts as she could. She may have been forced to strip, but she still had some decency, however much Draco had left her. Hermione sobbed, reliving every detail of her captivity. Shaking her head, she stopped herself- crying and moping wouldn't help anything. Where was that brilliant head of hers, to come up with a plan?

The truth was, Hermione had no idea of how to escape. Without her wand, it would be impossible to break the spells and charms, not to mention the chain around her neck. Her only hope was to appease Malfoy so he would let her go. As twisted as he seemed to be, Hermione believed he was not completely evil. Maybe if he would let her speak her mind, she could convince him to free her. All she needed to do was get him to listen.

Hermione heard covers being thrown back and a shuffle on the bed. Was Draco awake? Maybe he was just shifting in his sleep. A loud yawn confirmed her fears. Hermione closed her eyes, preparing herself for another day of horror. Just until he lets you speak, she told herself, just until you can talk to him.

A faint bell was heard down in the kitchen, and food magically appeared on the small table. Footsteps made their way to Hermione's side and the young witch stilled. Draco's hand tangled in Hermione's messy hair and petted her for a bit, before heading to his ample breakfast plate. He sat down and began to eat, glancing at Hermione every few seconds. She looked at his feet, a gesture she hoped conveyed submission and not disinterest.

"Are you hungry, pet?"

Hermione thought before answering, "A bit, Master."

"Do you wish to eat?"

The question struck her as odd. He was asking her if she wanted to eat. Hermione became instantly suspicious, but decided to go with the truth. Maybe he actually would give her something to eat. "Yes, Master, I do."

Draco grinned smugly and pointed his wand at the floor by Hermione's pillow. There appeared a dog bowl filled with what appeared to be oatmeal. Hermione stared at it, dejected. Surely he didn't really mean for her to-

"Then eat, my pet."

Hermione dragged herself out of her pillow and positioned herself by the bowl. She held her hair back and was ready to dive in when Draco interjected, "I want you to face me while you eat."

Without a word, Hermione shuffled so she was facing Draco, with the bowl in front of her. He was watching her intently, but Hermione forced herself to not pay attention. This was food, and food should not be wasted. Who knew when Draco would give her food again. Holding her pride at bay, Hermione dipped her head and began lapping up the oatmeal. It was a slow and messy process, but she licked the bowl clean. With sticky sugar on her hair and face, Hermione glanced up at Draco.

The man was still watching her. Upon realizing Hermione was done, Draco waved his hand and the oatmeal disappeared from her face. She felt grateful for his action, but something told her he had not done it for her benefit. His voice called out, "Come here, pet."

Hermione repeated yesterday's actions, shuffling on her hands and knees towards Draco. Only this time when she reached his feet he spoke, "Stand." Hermione obeyed quickly, still keeping her eyes downcast. The chain magically lengthened so she could stand, though it still pulled her slightly down. She wobbled on shaky legs, but did not hold on to Draco for support. Draco stood up as well, facing Hermione.

"Kiss me."

"What?" Hermione looked up, shocked. Why didn't he just kiss her himself?

"You heard me. Kiss me."

Hermione stood on her tip-toes and placed a soft peck on Draco's lips. He stood still as she pulled away.

"Is that the best you can do?"

"I'm... I'm sorry, Master." Hermione said, not understanding. She thought the kiss had been adequate. Granted, she had very little experience in the kissing department. The furthest she had ever gone with anyone had been Ron a few days ago and that had been a sloppy, desperate kiss. And short too, she remembered with anguish. How she missed her Ron!

Draco looked down at Hermione, not speaking. The young witch stared back, desperately looking for a cue of what to do. Suddenly she felt herself stiffen once more, just like she had a day ago. Her body began moving out of its own accord: her legs stopped shaking, her hands touched Draco's shoulders, and her mouth curled into a smile. Once more, all she had control over were her eyes and she used them to plead with Draco. Why did he do this to her?

Hermione felt herself once more lean into Draco and place her lips above his. Slowly they began moving together and it was... well, Hermione couldn't quite place the feeling. There was no love there, just physical contact. It felt unnatural and forced, but she didn't pull away. Make Malfoy happy, she told herself, and he will let you go. The young witch didn't fight anymore; instead, she let her mind wonder to other things: where Ron and Harry looking for her yet? Would there be a big search? Would they take her for dead? Would Malfoy be a suspect?

Draco's hands stayed still by his side, while Hermione's roamed all over his clothed chest, neck and hair. The kiss was intense: lips rubbing and sliding against each other, tongues dancing and tasting. Small throat noises came from Hermione, which surprised her at first. Maybe Malfoy liked this sort of thing? Hermione did not know kissing could involve so much! She made note to repeat some of these steps next time Malfoy ordered her to kiss him, so she wouldn't be bound like this again. Being controlled was worse than being held captive.

Hermione felt her lips slowly pull away from Draco's as the kiss broke. Seemingly satisfied now, Draco returned the control to his pet. Her muscles seemed to dissolve as she regained the use of her own body. Trembling, Hermione sat on the floor, her legs too shaky to support her weight.

"Pet, look at me."

Hermione glanced up at Draco, who had a smirk on his face. "Yes, Master?"

"I want you to come to bed with me."

_Author's Note: Thank you to all the marvelous peeps who have been giving me feedback! I hope Hermione's actions are a bit more clear to those of you who were confused. And don't worry, you will figure Draco out... eventually :) He's a twisted soul, that boy.  
My deepest apologies for the wait between chapters. School's just started and I have a load of AP classes to deal with, so fanfic writing has fallen in priority. Just stick with me through the weekends, kay? _


	7. Chapter 7

_Author's Note: My deepest apologies for the insanely long time between uploads! I hope you haven't given up on me. I'm juggling quite a few AP classes, plus the dreaded SATs and that whole applying to college beeswax. I'm still writing, I promise. I just have to give priorities to certain things. Just stick with me through the awkward writing times and all will end up ok. I swear I'll do a better job of uploading in the future.  
I know this chapter is even shortER than usual. I thought it would be better to give you a short chapter now than to make you wait a whole month for a longer one. Enjoy! _

**Chapter the Seventh**

Hermione blinked slowly, deliberating. She had absolutely no desire to join Malfoy in bed; she was sure he knew that. Outright refusal could have some horrible consequences, and Hermione reminded herself her plan required keeping Malfoy happy. Perhaps she could bear something small, nothing too intimate- Malfoy wouldn't rape her, she knew. He wasn't a complete monster. She could hold her own if he tried... She hoped.

Nodding slowly, Hermione lifted herself to a kneeling position, looking into Draco's eyes, searching for some sign that would explain this situation to her. She was unpleasantly rewarded with a condescending smirk and yank at her leash.

Hermione stumbled forward and began crawling after Draco, who dragged her by the chain toward his gigantic bed. He stopped her at the edge, where Hermione knelt, waiting for instructions. Draco removed the chain but kept her collar, much to the witch's dismay. "You may join me," Draco spoke as he moved gracefully to the center of the mattress. Hermione gingerly sat at the edge, but scooted closer after Draco motioned for her to come to him.

"Come here, Pet, I don't bite... Unprovoked," he chuckled, laying down on the fluffy green pillows. His relaxed pose contrasted Hermione's tense one as she sat next to her captor. She eyed nervously as Draco ran his hands through his ghostly white hair and closed his eyes. He seemed as if falling asleep, but Hermione dared not move. She drew up her knees, covering her naked torso, and watched Draco's breathing slow down, waiting for _something_ to happen. After what seemed like endless hours of agonizing stillness, something did.

Draco's hand moved from behind his head to stroke Hermione's naked back. She shivered, pushing away from her brain the memories of Draco's previous touches. He was going to do it again, she though. Breathe, she told herself, and don't show fear. But Draco did not make a move to touch her further- he only stroked her back, up and down, like one pets a dog. Like a bitch, Hermione realized angrily.

Fighting the thought to shove Draco away, Hermione kept herself still. She must play her part and win Malfoy's trust- it would be her only way out. Hermione breathed and tried to relax, unsuccessfully. Draco noticed her sudden tension and lazily sat up. He continued gently caressing the witch's back as he spoke, "What's the matter, Pet? Don't you like my touch?" His face seemed calm, but the tone underneath sounded dangerous, as if he dared Hermione to give him the wrong answer.

Once again, Draco's question caught Hermione by surprise. She did not know how to reply: Should she lie to please Malfoy, or tell the truth and risk upsetting him? Maybe he didn't want her to enjoy it. Yet, if he found out she lied, Malfoy could be even more upset. Still, maybe all he wanted was for Hermione to love him. Or maybe he just wanted a devoted slut. If she told him she liked his gentle behavior, perhaps he would stop being so forceful. Hermione made her decision.

"Very much, Master," she spoke in an assertive voice that she hoped would covey sincerity.

Hermione did not see Draco's hand as it came flying toward her cheek. She only noticed the pain as she stumbled sideways into a pile of pillows. The side of her face throbbed as she quickly pulled herself into a kneeling position, her eyes flaming. Anger and frustration swelled inside her as she looked at Malfoy's face. Draco copied her stand and stared back with just as much fury in his eyes. Both glared at each other until Draco spoke, "You think you can lie to me, Granger? You think you're too good to be spared punishment? You've always been so sure you were better than everyone else. Who's the superior one now, you filthy cunt?"

All thoughts of a peaceful mediation left Hermione's mind as she processed the fact that she had been physically abused. Infuriated, Hermione growled, "What do you want from me, Malfoy?"

This time Hermione saw Draco's hand, but her attempt to block it was futile. Her hair flung about wildly as her whole body twisted from the impact, but she did not fall. Instead, she shot Draco the coldest glare she could muster. Draco bared his teeth in response, "You. Will. Address. Me. As. Master."

Hermione crawled backwards, away from Draco's reach before speaking, "No! You have no ownership over me. You do not own me, I don't care what the Minister said. It's all a bunch of bullshit. You are a sick bastard!"

Hermione was livid. Malfoy could humiliate and bully her all he wanted, but he would _not_ hit her. An immediate change of strategy was called for – Draco would not negotiate, so she would be forced to fight. If only she could get her wand, she would have a chance. Looking frantically around the room, she spotted Draco's on the bedside table. The only thing between her and the wand was Draco himself, and the length of the mattress. Hermione hoped she could make it.

"Oh, Granger," Draco spat, "I do own you. And by the time I'm done with you, you will love every living second of it."

As Draco taunted her, Hermione began shifting slightly. She pretended to be steadying herself and prayed Malfoy would not notice what she was up to. He seemed too busy in his own monologue to see through her plan.

"My little bitch, that's what you are, and what you will be. I bet you're already dripping wet from the thought of having me thrusting deep inside your worthless cunt. You're so disgusting, even your friends are glad you're gone. Potty and Weasel aren't even looking for you!"

"What do you know of having friends, Malfoy?" Hermione jeered back, "Yours were ready to let you die. Ron and Harry will come for me."

"Get used to disappointment, Pet, you're-"

Hermione dove towards Draco's wand. Arms outstretched, she felt her hand close around the wood. As she took hold of Draco's wand, she felt her body topple over the edge of the bed. With a loud thud Hermione landed on the floor. The air was knocked out of her lungs, and her extremities felt momentarily tingly. Hermione pulled herself to her feet, dodging Draco's furious leap at her. As she began to desperately run for the door, a hand snaked around her waist and pulled her down. Hermione felt herself falling backwards just as strong muscles pried away the wand from her fingers.

"EXPELIARMUS!" Hermione cried out. The spell hit a bookshelf and exploded, sending bits of wood and paper everywhere. "PETRIFICUS TOTALUS!" and the curtains became rigid. Just as she was about to cry out another spell, the wand was ripped from her hands. Hermione crashed over Draco, who stumbled backwards onto the floor, clutching the wand and Hermione. With a crash, both hit the floor with alarming force.

Not wasting time, Hermione turned around and began clawing her way towards possession of the wand. She scratched at Draco's face and neck, trying in vain to reach Draco's hand. A particularly good lunge towards it gave Draco the chance he needed; in one swift move he flipped Hermione so he was looming over her. "Incarcerous," he panted, and thick ropes coiled around Hermione's small frame. She struggled, trying to break free, but Hermione knew it was to no use.

Draco rolled himself into a sitting position, took a few breaths, and looked at his possession. "You are going to regret this," he panted. With ease he picked up the witch and carried her, bridal style, to the bed, where he unceremoniously plopped her down.

Hermione shifted and squirmed against the ropes with all her might, but she could not free herself. She watched with unease as Draco set about tidying up the mess she had made in her escape attempt. He worked slowly, pausing between each task to glance at the helpless women bound on his bed. Finally, when he was done, he sat down next to Hermione.

"My, my, my," Draco purred, "Aren't we just feisty today? I must say, I much prefer when you fight back. Perhaps I should hit you more often; that seems to get a reaction out of you."

The words sent chills through Hermione – Draco was threatening her! She was ready to respond with some harsh words of her own before she caught herself. A reaction was what Draco wanted, and she would not give him that. Instead, she looked blankly into his eyes. Where she expected to find hatred she saw... confusion. Draco's eyes were deep pools of shadowy, questioning gray. Hermione's brain immediately began forming theories to explain it, but none made sense. Her blank eyes became clouded and confused as well.

"So, Pet, shall we start were we left off?" Draco's voice showed none of the confusion Hermione saw in his eyes. The only thing his voice conveyed was cocky arrogance. Hermione couldn't think of anyone whose voice described their personality so well.

Hermione glanced away but did not struggle as Draco whispered a counterspell and vanished the coils. He once more slid towards the center of the bed and sprawled over the emerald pillows. Hermione followed and sat herself next to Draco, keeping her expression blank. She did not flinch as the young man pulled her to him, nor did she fight when he pressed her against his muscular torso. When Draco's hand began running down her naked side, Hermione barely acknowledged it. If a reaction was what Draco wanted, then it would be the last thing he would get.


	8. Chapter 8

_____Thank you for those of you who stuck around. It's been a few months!_

_____WARNING: this chapter contains a rape scene._

_____This chapter was incredibly difficult to write; I rewrote it so many times, and I feel like it might get tweaked a few more still. Again, it's short. I'm still trying to figure out where this story is going. I'll figure it out a little bit at a time, I suppose._   


**Chapter the Eight**

Hermione woke as lifeless as she had fallen asleep. Judging by the warm light bathing the room, it must have been late afternoon. The young witch stretched, noticed there was a sleeping body next to her, and, appalled, turned on her side, facing away from the gray-eyed monster that lay there. Having made sure he was asleep, Hermione let her emotions flow back to her. She replayed her memories: Draco had humiliated her, forced her to kiss him, and taken her to the bed; she had tried to escape, he tied her up and... then... what? Hermione racked her brain, stretched for the deepest details of the events, but they stopped at the moment Malfoy joined her on the bed. Panic. What had Malfoy done to her that she couldn't remember? And, most importantly, _why_ couldn't she remember it?

Cold tentacles seemed to snake around her stomach as she began thinking about all the things Malfoy could have done to her. Until this morning she hadn't thought Malfoy capable of being cruel and sadistic, but now she wasn't so sure. She had changed during this war, why couldn't Malfoy have changed as well? The insecure and scared Draco Hermione had seen during the battle could easily have been a ruse to guarantee the Malfoy family amnesty when they switched sides once more.

With shaking hands Hermione began to feel her body for tender areas. Her upper arms were sore and there were bruises on her waist. Her breasts felt sensitive, but that could easily mean she was on a hormonal high, and her privates felt rather normal. Thankfully, Malfoy must have left them alone.

A husky, low voice spoke next to her ear, "Having some fun without me, are we?". Hermione turned around in horror. Clearly Malfoy had the wrong impression of what she had been doing.

"No, I was just..."

"It's ok, pet. We all have needs that need to be met." He stared at her pointedly, expectantly. Hermione shivered. Hurriedly, she emptied herself of all emotion once more, before subordinately responding.

"Yes, Master."

Draco noticed as Hermione's eyes suddenly changed from intense and focused to dull and lifeless. He had seen her do that earlier and did not like it. Determined to engage his prisoner, he began asking her questions. He knew Hermione would not pass up the chance to explain things.

"What were you doing then?"

"Trying to find out what you did to me, Master."

"And what have you discovered so far, Pet?"

The young witch gave him a momentarily questioning glance before slipping back into her emotion-less state. "That you did not fully violate me, but were fairly rough with me, Master."

"Well, of course I didn't violate you. I like my sluts conscious when I fuck them."

Hermione thoroughly analyzed Draco's reply. Did that mean she had passed out before Malfoy had been able to do anything? She sincerely hoped so.

Using her quiet moment to his advantage, Draco seductively whispered, "But now that you mention it, I rather like the idea, Pet. Come."

Though she appeared lifeless and disinterested, Hermione's insides were clenching in horror. She obeyed, sliding closer to her captor. Draco, who had rid himself of clothes long before Hermione had awakened, positioned himself above the young witch.

"Now, Pet, you can make this easy or hard on yourself. I'm going to enjoy myself either way."

Hermione only stared back, reaction-less. Draco huffed in annoyance, but Hermione had already sunk into comforting memories of warm summers with Harry and Ron, or skiing with her parents. She barely noticed as Draco's hands ran down her sides, and she made no sounds as he began fondling her. All of his touches went virtually unnoticed by the young witch.

In response, Draco became rougher, yet Hermione showed no emotion. Only when Draco's swollen head positioned itself in Hermione's entrance did she give any acknowledgment to the situation, in the form of a small grimace, which she quickly dismissed by drowning in memories of sleepovers with Ginny over Christmas.

A clearly frustrated Draco shouted, "Look at me, whore!" Hermione looked at Draco, but her eyes were so distant, she may as well have been looking through him. In a fit of anger, Draco thrust himself fully into Hermione.

The young woman's fantasies suddenly came to a halt as the unexpected sensation hit her. Caught unaware, she let out a pained gasp and Draco smirked. She had never felt anything like it – it hurt much more than she anticipated. Fighting tears, Hermione tried taking her thoughts elsewhere, but what was happening to her body made it impossible. She began sobbing in pain and shame, shaking her head in the process. Within a few thrusts Draco was finished.

Hermione was left alone on the bed as Draco headed into the bathroom. She put her arms around herself, holding her cracked emotions together. He had done the unthinkable. How could she ever have thought him good?

After some time, Draco came back to the bed. He looked at Hermione, his face, once again, expressionless

"Why?" Hermione sobbed to her captor, "Why do you do this to me?"

"Need there be a reason?" Draco replied curtly. Hermione's eyes, full of tears, shut tightly. She had lost the strength to fight Draco's jabs. "Just let me go. Please."

Draco looked at her. Again, a look of confusion briefly settled over his face, but was quickly replaced by cool disinterest. Without another word, Draco turned and left the room. Hermione heard his steps down the stairwell and listened as he gave orders to the house elf. Even though she couldn't understand what he was saying, Hermione noted his tone was a lot gentler towards the elf than herself. _At least Sangue is ok_, she thought.

Hermione wiped her tears and looked about her. She did not want to remain on this wretched bed where such horrible things had happened. Lighting-quick she leaped out of the sheets and settled herself on her pillow. It was degrading and exposed, but at least it was hers. There she lay, waiting for Draco to return and her torture to continue.


End file.
